


Stay

by myblueworld



Series: The Tale of Two Davids [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, some kind of domestic thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 10:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10919547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myblueworld/pseuds/myblueworld
Summary: Villa has never asked Silva to stay.Until one day, Silva asks Villa to stay.





	Stay

_No strings attached._

That has been the unspoken agreement between them since day one. Since the day Villa texted Silva to come over. Since the day Villa opened his door, only to find Silva standing there, a smug smirk on his lips. The smirk only lasted for less than two seconds as the first thing that Villa did was grabbing Silva by his collar and crashing their lips together.

_It’s not something that is meant to last._

It has been the deal they agreed silently between them.

That is why Villa always lays on his side, his back facing Silva every time Silva quietly gets up from the bed, putting on his clothes.

That is why Villa shuts his eyes tightly, trying to forget that Silva is only a few feet away from him.

That is why Villa has never asked Silva to stay.

Even though the sound of the door being opened and closed again always sounds too loud, too hollow.

_No strings attached._

That is why Villa has never asked Silva to stay.

He wants to.

But he never does.

 

**-*-**

_Some kind of friends with benefits but nothing more and maybe even a little less than friends._

That is such a complicated term, but it’s the simplest one that Silva can do to explain what it is between him and Villa.

Not like anyone has ever asked about it anyway. It’s an explanation that Silva made up for himself.

They’re not really friends (because Silva still has the decency to realize how different their worlds are to define themselves as friends). But what they have is a good example of what ‘friends with benefits’ means.

And not that anyone has ever mentioned it before, but Silva is hesitant to use the word ‘fuck buddy’.

Yes, they fuck.

Yes, the sex is amazing.

But when Villa stares at him with those dark eyes with something terrifyingly so close to adoration. When Villa whispers his name, like a plea, like a prayer in his ear. When the little voice at the back of Silva’s mind telling him how the warmth radiating from Villa when he holds him feels like home.

Oh, Silva sometimes wishes that what they do is more than just fucking.

That is why he always pretends that he’s too exhausted, that every time they finish, Silva just closes his eyes and starts breathing steadily.

So he can let Villa runs his fingers through his hair, thinking that Silva is already falling asleep.

_He’s not._

So he can have Villa caressing his side with his hand, his palm warm against Silva’s skin, thinking that Silva is not aware of it.

_He is._

Silva always pretends he already succumbs to tiredness and let Villa pull Silva into his arm, Silva’s back resting against Villa’ chest, hearts slowly beating in a lulling rhythm.

So that fragile moment where Silva feels like he doesn’t want to be anywhere else besides here, in the safety of Villa’s arms, doesn't have to be torn away with awkwardness and second guesses.

And when the morning is about to softly pushes away the night, Silva will carefully get up from the bed, letting Villa rolls away from him.

He will put on his clothes quietly, try not to think about the dull ache in his heart.

And in the dark, Silva will walk to the door, determined not to look back over his shoulder.

If he does, if he catches just a glimpse of Villa sleeping in peace, Silva might not be able to resist the temptation to stay longer. Just a little bit longer.

_But even a little bit longer will always be too long._

As Silva opens the door and steps outside, he wonders whether he will say yes if Villa will ever ask him to stay.

As he closes the door and walks away, he shakes his head with a bitter smile, knowing for sure that Villa will never ask him to stay anyway.

 

**-*-**

It’s hot. Too hot.

And everything hurts. His bone is aching and it feels like someone is banging a hammer inside his skull.

Silva tries to open his eyes but even the light seeping in from his window is too bright and hurts head.

Silva groans and tries to sit up on his bed. A mundane thing that suddenly becomes an impossible task as it’s like thousands of needles are piercing his bones.

The short walk to the bathroom is like a 15-minute trip of torture. After a few second rummaging the cabinet, Silva found a bottle of painkiller. He manages to gulp two tablets along with some water. He’s almost proud of himself successfully making the trip back to his bed.

As he slides himself into the bed, he hears his phone going off. Silva only groans and let the phone keeps on ringing. It stops for a while, then it goes off again.

Grunting, Silva carefully flips on his side, and presses a pillow over his head, trying to block the annoying sound.

Whoever it is, it can wait. Anything can wait. The whole world can wait for now.

 

**-*-**

A cool comfortable feeling over his forehead wakes Silva up from the uncomfortable sleep. He blinks a few times before his sight comes to focus.

He startles once he recognizes the face looking down at him with concern.

“Villa?” Silva can barely manage a whisper.

“Shhh…” Villa says softly, pressing the damp cloth against Silva’s forehead. Silva closes his eyes again, letting the cloth cools down his burning skin.

It feels nice.

Silva opens his eyes again.

“But… How…”

“Your landlord let me in. I told him that you’re sick.”

Silva nods weakly. He wants to ask other questions. Like how did Villa knows that he’s sick. How did Villa find his apartment.

_Why he’s here._

But anything is too blurry and his mind is way too hazy to think about anything.

Silva opens his eyes when Villa gently pats his cheek.

“Here,” he says, holding a glass close to Silva. There’s a plastic straw in it the glass. “You need to drink. A lot.”

Silva nods and drinks the water from the straw. When he has drunk as much as he can manage, Villa puts the glass on the nightstand.

“Villa?”

“Hm?”

Silva stares at Villa. Villa pushes Silva’s hair away from his forehead.

“You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

Silva can only whisper with trembling voice. Not just because of the fever but also from the fear that Villa is going to leave him.

Villa’s dark eyes are soft as his lips curl up into a small, comforting smile. He takes Silva’s hand and holds it.

“No,” Villa says, shaking his head as he squeezes Silva’s hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He leans and kisses Silva’s forehead. He lets his lips stay on Silva’s skin for a while, not really kissing it but just…stays there.

“I’ll take care of you, Silva,” Villa says as he straightens his back up. The smile is still there on his lips and suddenly Silva feels a little better.

He smiles back at Villa and opens his lips. But Villa already presses his index finger against Silva’s lips.

“Now sleep, okay?”

He presses another soft kiss on Silva’s cheeks.

“Don’t worry, Silva. I won’t go anywhere,” he whispers.

Silva gives a single weak nod, and closes his eyes. It doesn’t take long before he drifts away into sleep again.

But this time someone is holding his hand.

This time Silva is not alone.

 

**-*-**

Silva doesn’t know how long he’s been sleeping. Probably long enough. Probably not that long.

But the thing that matters, Villa is still there when he opens his eyes.

Sitting with his back against the headboard, Villa turns his neck at Silva.

“How are you feeling?” he says, placing his palm over Silva’s forehead to check his temperature.

There is that concerned look in Villa’s eyes. Like’s he’s really worried. Like he really cares about Silva.

Silva finds it terrifying that he likes it. The idea that ~~Villa~~ someone really cares about him.

Silva gives Villa a weak smile. “Better,” he says.

“Good,” Villa says, starts running his fingers through Silva’s hair. “Good.”

Silva nods.

He knows that he should tell Villa not to worry. That he’s okay now. That Villa can leave him.

But he doesn’t want to. He still wants Villa to be here. Next to him like this. Playing with his hair like this. Looking at him like that, like Silva is something that Villa adores.

“Wait here,” Villa suddenly says. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

Silva nods, and watches as Villa gets off the bed and walks out of the bedroom.

A few minutes later, Villa comes back, holding a tray with a bowl on it.

He puts the tray on the nightstand.

“Can you sit?”

Silva nods, and sits up carefully. Villa helps him arrange the pillows so Silva can rest against them comfortably.

“What is it?”

Villa shrugs his shoulder as he takes the bowl.

“Chicken soup.”

Silva raises an eyebrow questioningly.

“You made it?”

Villa looks down at the bowl but Silva can see his cheeks are changing into a slightly brighter color.

“No," he shakes his head. “I… I have… a friend. And… Well.. His wife made it. I asked her,” he says, stumbling here and there in his words.

Silva bites his lower lip to hold back a smile. “Your friend?”

“Uh huh. Xavi.”

Villa lifts up the spoon and brings it to Silva’s lips. Silva obediently opens his mouth and lets Villa feeds him.

“Tell me about him.”

“Who?”

“Your friend. Xavi.”

Villa’s lips stretch into a thin line as he feeds Silva another spoon of soup.

“He’s… just a friend,” Villa says, shrugging his shoulders. “A friend at work.”

Silva nods. “Then tell me. I want to know.”

Villa’s brows furrow along with some creases on his forehead. “What?”

Silva tilts his head to the left but keeps his eyes at Villa’s. “I want to know. About your friend. Your work. Your life.”

For a moment, Villa only stares back at Silva without saying anything.

Silva shifts a little.

“I want to know more. About you,” he says, this time with a lower, softer voice.

For another second or two, Villa still says nothing. He only stares at Silva. His eyes unreadable.

Then slowly, the look in his eyes get softer.

“So,” he says. “I am the Head System Analyst in my office. And Xavi…”

Villa starts talking as he feeds Silva. About Xavi and his grumpy mood. About his other colleague, Geri, who is a die-hard Barca fans and thus, always argues with Sergio, his other colleague. About how he starts working in the company.

And Silva listens. Smiling. Laughing.

Silva listens, mentally keeping notes about these things that Villa is telling him.

Silva listens, feeling like he’s (they are?) taking a small step further into whatever it is between them.

 

**-*-**

Villa puts the bowl back on the tray. He takes the glass of water and gives it to Silva.

Silva drinks the water slowly, while Villa sits patiently, waiting for Silva.

Holding the now-empty glass, Silva looks up, finding Villa’s eyes.

“Villa?”

“Hm?”

Silva smiles. “Thank you,” he says, earnestly.

The smile on Villa’s lips makes something warm and fuzzy flutters inside Silva.

“No problem.”

Silence again.

Silva bites his lips as he looks down at the glass that he’s nursing.

_Villa never asks him to stay._

“Villa?”

_Maybe because Villa doesn’t want him to stay._

“Hm?”

Silva locks his eyes at Villa. And for a second, it’s like the world is holding its breath.

_What if he asks Villa to stay?_

“Stay?”

_Does Villa want to stay?_

Villa’s lips half parted as he stares back at Silva.

And it’s terrifying.

It’s terrifying how Silva wants Villa to stay.

It’s terrifying to feel how his hope starts to grow as he sees that gentle look in Villa’s eyes.

“Please?’

“Okay.”

Silva gasps.

Villa’s hand reaches out to hold the back of Silva’s head.

He smiles at Silva, and Silva is breathless for a second.

“I’ll stay,” he says.

“Because I ask you to?”

_What if Villa is only being nice?_

_What if it’s because Villa just doesn’t know how to say no?_

“Because you ask me to,” Villa says.

It’s like the air is being punched out of Silva’s lungs.

But then Villa leans closer to him.

“But mostly, because I want to. To stay. With you.”

Silva smiles.

And he can feel Villa’s smile as Villa presses a soft kiss on his forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. I finally make some sort of sequel. Because I sort of having an idea about making it into something longer (or probably because I just want to procrastinate)


End file.
